


Undisclosed Desire

by AndThenHeGotKnockedUp



Series: Undisclosed Desire [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alpha Gil Arroyo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Drugged Sex, Dry Orgasm, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Knotting, M/M, Male omegas are kind of rare, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Malcolm Bright, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Requited Unrequited Love, Rough Sex, Rutting, Very rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndThenHeGotKnockedUp/pseuds/AndThenHeGotKnockedUp
Summary: There's a new drug on the market that induces heats and ruts to such a degree that the heart gives out unless the alpha or omega can satisfy it with a partner. While investigating the deaths it has already caused, Gil is dosed.Malcolm refuses to let him die.(DUBCON for a few reasons - explained in the end notes if you'd like to check first)
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Series: Undisclosed Desire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643782
Comments: 17
Kudos: 202





	Undisclosed Desire

Their current case is a messy one but unfortunately not uncommon. There are several drugs on the market that induced heats and ruts, and they’re routinely used to force unwilling omegas and alphas into becoming desperate messes, glad for any help they can get, regardless of whether they would choose to spend a heat or rut with that person when in their right mind. Usually, these cases would not fall to Gil and his team.

This time, people were dying. Those kinds of drugs only induced a desperate state, or at least they _used to_ before whatever is being used in their case now was developed. This drug isn’t one you can ride out. You need a partner, need to be knotted or knot, to be exposed to the right kind of pheromones for the feeling to subside. 

It never ends on its own.

A few times, they managed to find the victim before they died, but they couldn’t keep them alive indefinitely. Even hooked up to IVs for fluids and nutrition, their hearts eventually gave out from the stress if they weren’t coherent enough to opt for a heat or rut partner. The one survivor they _did_ have couldn’t give them anything useful.

Most of the time, however, they only found a body. 

It still wasn’t passed onto major crimes until it became clear that many of the victims were dosed by the same person, who wasn’t interested in forcing them into sex. They wanted to see the life burn out of them. The victims would be locked in a room by themselves, no aids, no partners, no relief. Only a camera.

Malcolm pins them as a beta. “They don’t discriminate between omegas and alphas when picking their prey,” he explains. “They don’t sympathize with either of them. They’re unfamiliar with heats and ruts, hence the camera. They don’t even want to be a part of the process. They need that separation to observe.”

It makes it tricky for them to investigate, seeing as Gil is an alpha and Malcolm an omega, though everyone barring the Lieutenant thinks he’s a beta. His soaps are the most effective money can buy, but he’s still susceptible to heats. Usually these cases are left to betas. That way, even if they _are_ dosed, the worst side effect they would have to deal with is a migraine. The case has already made it into the news, however, and the public is putting the pressure on the NYPD to solve it sooner rather than later, which means they need everyone they can get working on it. Gil and his team have developed a reputation for getting things done.

So, they’re careful. They don’t accept any opened food or drinks, even at the precinct. They’re careful who they come in contact with. The higher ups even supply the entire team with heavy duty menthol cream to help dull out any heat or rut scents in the event that they find a victim in time to do something about it. Neither Gil nor Malcolm will use it unless necessary. It can block out too many things, handicapping their more sensitive noses, and that could mean the difference between catching their killer before or after they kill someone else.

Which is why they aren’t using it when they follow up on their next lead.

The strip club they walk into reeks. It’s an amalgamation of all of the pheromones of every patron there, every hint of desire compounded until strong enough to make any alpha or omega dizzy. There are air purifiers, thankfully, but they’re not strong enough to keep the building smelling of nothing. That’s not what the owners want, either. In fact, it’s likely they’re pumping artificial pheromones in to heighten the sensation, to loosen inhibitions and wallets.

Clubs like these are often hunting grounds of people looking to use the kinds of drugs they’re tracking. They only have proof of one of the victims being in this specific establishment, but it’s enough to check it out. JT and Dani are out looking at a similar club.

The bar is busy. The bartenders are working hard, pouring drinks and charming customers. The tables by the poles are even busier. Most of the dancers are omegas, both female and male, all of them slim and alluring and flexible. The male omegas are raking in a large amount of cash in particular. Rarity sells. Off to the side, there’s a party of omegas hollering as one of their friends gets a lap dance from a particularly tall alpha woman. 

Not even the murders have managed to keep customers away. 

The discounted drinks probably help, Malcolm realizes as his eyes linger on the colorful signs behind the bar. Anything to keep the cash rolling in. He switches tracks to the dancers, moving with all of the carelessness of a rich beta who knows he can get what he wants. He’s perfected it over the years. He can’t pretend to be an alpha, and even his beta shield comes off as more submissive than not with his petite frame, but it’s airtight. 

Unsurprisingly, a male alpha dancer comes up to him with a smirk. “How about a dance, handsome?”

Malcolm reaches into his jacket and pulls out a twenty. It’s flashy enough to back up his front but not so extravagant that he’ll be the center of the entire club’s attention. “I’m more interested in you getting on that stage. There’s more, if you’re good.” A private dance would limit his field of vision too much. Distance will allow him to have eyes on more of the patrons. 

Gil has the bar covered. The alpha strode over and inserted himself into the crowd after they parted, and he’s still there now, nursing a beer and getting a feel for the bartenders. 

Averting his eyes, Malcolm gives a good fourth of his attention to the dancer who approached him as he works the pole in tandem with an omega woman. It’s objectively hot. Objectively, because neither of them are his type. The alpha, while broad and muscled, is several years younger than him. He’s also clean shaven, and much too cocky. The omega woman is, well, an omega and a woman. Malcolm prefers his men bigger than himself, bearded and dominant _without_ a need to show off. He’d prefer an alpha, too, but he goes for betas more often, leery at the thought of trusting the wrong alpha with his secret. 

His thoughts drift to Gil, as they often do when he allows himself to think about alphas in relation to himself. The older man practically created his preference just by existing within his sphere when he presented, and he’s fantasized about him for years, both during and out of his heats. 

The exaggerated moan of the omega on stage brings him back. He idly stuffs a twenty into her bra when she leans down, schooling his face into one of appreciation. He’s on the job. He can’t forget that. 

Handing the alpha another twenty and a coy look after they finish their display, Malcolm moves over to the bar to catch Gil’s eye and let him know he hasn’t seen anything yet. 

But Gil isn’t there. The Lieutenant wouldn’t have left without saying something.

Malcolm smoothly changes direction to the bathrooms as if that’s where he was heading all along. 

There are two men using urinals. Neither of them are Gil. All of the stalls are empty. 

He empties what little in is his bladder for appearance’s sake, washes his hands, and walks out. He saw another door down the hall that was marked for employees only. They have no warrant to search the building, but with Gil mysteriously gone, he’ll push it, and he does, quietly opening the door. It leads to a flight of steps down to the basement. 

At the base of the steps, he spots another man walking out of a storage room. The man isn’t wearing the bartending uniform and smells too much like a beta to be one of the dancers. He stops at the sight of Malcolm.

The profiler _knows_. This is their man, and he did something to Gil. He moves forward slowly, keeping an eye on the suspect. 

Of course the man bolts. The only way to get out is past Malcolm, so he makes to knock him over, but the profiler uses his own momentum against him and sends him crashing to the floor. It doesn’t knock him out, however, and he needs to punch the suspect to subdue him. 

There’s a roll of packing tape sitting on a box along the wall. He grabs it to tape the man’s wrists and ankles together in lieu of a pair of handcuffs. He also tapes his wrists to the railing as an afterthought. Gil was right, he really needed to start carrying his own gear again. 

He calls in for backup before entering the room their killer walked out of. He would just run right in, but deep down, he knows exactly what he will find in that room. He won’t let Gil die, not even if the man himself protests at what they have to do to save him, and that means that someone else needs to deal with the beta he’s restrained down the hall. Breathing in slow and even, he opens the door. 

Gil’s head snaps up. He grits his teeth and shakes his head. “Bright, leave.”

“No, not unless you have another rut partner in mind.” He stays by the door, however, not wanting to press the alpha too much. He’s ready to step in — at his own pace. He’s not ready to be tackled and taken. A shiver threatens to run through him at the thought, but he forces himself still. “I’m not going to let you burn out, Gil.”

“I can hold out.” The older man is shaking, his legs folded up close and his arms resting on his knees, crossed. He’s keeping himself in the corner, refusing to move towards the scent of unbonded omega. It’s light on Malcolm. His soaps block it out for the most part, but Gil is on the short list of people who know his secret, and so he’s always been able to identify what the tang on the end of the beta smell really is. It calls to him now. 

“You can’t,” the omega says flatly. He looks Gil over. “He gave you a higher dose, didn’t he? The dilation of the pupils, the shaking, the sweating… you’re progressing faster than Edrisa projected. You’re only able to hold back because you don’t want to hurt me.”

“Don’t come closer.” The alpha’s knuckles are white with the strain.

“I refuse to let you die.” He takes a step forward. “I don’t care if you hate me for it. I don’t care if I have to out myself to do it.” 

And he will. If Edrisa was right about anything, this rut will be leagues stronger than a normal rut, and the breaks will be much shorter _if_ there are any at all. This won’t be a quick fuck to sate the urge. By the time backup arrives, he’ll likely be putty under Gil, his omega scent rising up to overpower his beta camouflage as he’s pounded into the ground. 

“ _Bright_.”

Malcolm unbuttons his suit jacket and shrugs it off. “You won’t hurt me, Gil.” The vest and tie come off next. He’s working slowly, trying not to spark the alpha’s instincts too soon even as the reek of rut works on his own body.

Gil makes a rough, low sound as soon as Malcolm’s throat is bared. He screws his eyes shut and tries to breath through his mouth, but it’s a futile effort. The growing scent of slick hits him regardless.

The omega toes off his shoes one after the other. Then, cautiously, he unzips his pants and shifts them down far enough that they slip and pool at his feet. He doesn’t dare risk bending over just yet. He pads closer, left in only his underwear, which is quickly growing wet. The alpha pheromones are kicking his body into gear. Or maybe that’s just _Gil_.

When he gets within a few feet of him, Malcolm slides his underwear off, lowers himself to his knees, and shuffles the rest of the way, lightly touching the older man’s arms to let him know he’s there. 

Not that he has to. Gil’s eyes fly open and his nostrils flare as he loosens his grip on himself to grab the omega’s hands instead. “Bright,” he bites out. “I can smell you.” 

“I know.” Malcolm doesn’t fight, doesn’t even try to move his arms. “Let me help you, Gil. _Alpha_.”

The older man breathes out raggedly. “Fuck, kid,” he mutters. His grip goes slack enough for the omega to slip free, but his gaze follows him, stalks him, watching to make sure he doesn’t try to leave. 

Malcolm eases the alpha’s legs down so that he can get to his fly. He doesn’t try to coax him into taking his pants off, merely opens them enough to push the elastic of his boxers under his heavy balls. The thick alpha cock weeps precum when he touches it. The omega feels a whine building in the back of his throat. If they weren’t strapped for time, if Gil wasn’t _drugged_ , he’d love to swallow all of it down and let the older man fuck his face a little first. 

Instead, he climbs into his lap, wraps a steady hand around that cock, and guides it into where he’s slick and waiting. 

Gil’s hands immediately find his waist. He holds him down to the root for ten, twenty seconds. All of the muscles in his stomach and legs are taut with the effort of not rutting into Malcolm at full force. It takes all of his willpower. His grip is bruising because of it, his heels digging into the floor and his jaw clenched to a painful degree. 

The omega rests his hands on the alpha’s shoulders as his body adjusts. He wasn’t quite wet enough to take it all at once with ease, and so Gil feels so big, so _filling_. A whimper escapes him.

Groaning, the older man reflexively thrusts up as Malcolm clenches around him. The zipper of his pants rasps against his bare cheeks. “ _Bright_.”

“I know,” Malcolm says soothingly. The tension in his body is loosening up, an omega reaction to an alpha in rut. “I’ve got you.” He pushes himself up until the cock in his ass is close to slipping out before rocking his hips down again to encompass all of the length. The hands on his waist are shaking. He does it again. And again. And again, a rhythm building as he slowly rides Gil. If he can get the alpha to knot him once like this, it will hopefully dull his aggression enough to make the following rounds less likely to bruise. 

Gil gnashes his teeth as the omega sighs and moans with the drag of his dick. The part of him riled up by the drugs in his system is crying out for him to flip them over and snap his hips, fuck into the man riding him until he can grind his knot into that willing hole. He wants to make the omega scream. But _Malcolm_ is the one on top of him. Malcolm, the sweet, anxious omega who came back to the city lithe and gorgeous and well into his breeding years. The boy who stood up to his alpha father to save Gil’s life, all grown up and ready for an alpha of his own. The omega he admits he wants, deep down. He shakes his head to try and dispel his rut-driven thoughts. 

It’s hard to when Malcolm pushes him back against the wall with gentle hands and leans forward for better leverage, hands slipping beneath the shoulders of the alpha’s jacket. His face is flushed. His eyes are becoming dazed. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, muffling the sweet sounds he’s making as he takes Gil’s cock. 

Shifting forward, the alpha mashes their faces together, knocking the omega’s bottom lip free in shock, opening it up enough that he can devour the moans trapped there. He only breaks the kiss to breathe.

Malcolm gasps, his mouth red and swollen from the assault. His rhythm stuttered when it happened, and his eyes shutter as he picks it up again. He’s determined to wring an orgasm out of Gil before he snaps again. 

The problem is that Gil has other plans. As soon as the omega raises himself again, he thrusts up harshly, drawing a loud keen from his younger partner. He finds he likes that noise, so he does it a second time, pulling Malcolm down by the waist to meet his thrust. 

It destroys the rhythm he was building. He grips the alpha’s shoulders harder and nearly collapses into his chest as he’s worked like a fleshlight on that cock. “G- _gil_ —”

The older man wrenches his waist to the side, reversing their positions until he’s on top, between Malcolm’s legs.

It jars the dick inside of him and pulls a short scream of pained pleasure out of him. “Gil, _wait_ —” He gets a moment of relief as those hands loosen.

Until the alpha pushes his legs up close to his chest and returns his hands to their place to yank him back, filling him to the root abruptly. “So fucking tight,” he hisses. It’s the first time he’s spoken in minutes. He thrusts and pulls, thrusts and pulls, dragging Malcolm’s bare back along the concrete floor, mindless to anything that’s not his own pleasure. 

The omega tries to do something to gain back a sliver of control, but the angle at which Gil is holding him has him stretched out and tilted. He can’t get leverage. His hands scrabble against the floor as he’s jackhammered by the alpha. He can feel the knot growing through the rapid thrusts. His moans and whimpers grow in volume and length until he’s wailing, legs jerking in the air between them.

Gil’s knot is nearly fully inflated, and he’s still fucking Malcolm with it. He adjusts the younger man on his dick again with a grunt, leaning forward so that his thrusts are shorter but harder, the knot popping in and out much faster. 

Finally, it swells completely. The alpha thrusts once more, wringing a scream and a violent orgasm out of the omega beneath him as they lock together. He leans down to swallow that scream, pushing Malcolm’s legs up even closer to his sticky chest. 

They both pant as they take a breather. Gil’s cock is still filling him with thick jets of cum, the younger man’s ass milking it out of him. 

It’s the end of the first wave. 

The knot takes a full fifteen minutes to shrink, though the alpha doesn’t go soft, of course. Not while in rut. He spends that time kissing Malcolm, keeping him quiet and pliant as he breeds him, but as soon as he can slip out with ease, he does. His cum starts leaking out almost immediately. There’s so much of it, even with a good amount of it deep inside the omega. Still, seeing it leak, seeing it being _wasted_ makes the rut drunk side of him frustrated. He scoops up some of it with a finger and pushes it back into the younger man’s puffy hole.

Malcolm whines. He’s sensitive. He feels raw despite the slick his body is constantly producing in response to the pheromones in the air. In a normal rut, this would be the time between breedings when both omega and alpha would get a reprieve from the frantic sex, and he sorely needs it.

But this isn’t a normal rut. 

With a huff, Gil rolls him over onto his front and hauls his ass back against his hard cock. He thrusts it against his slick crack. 

“I need a break,” Malcolm says, dazed, against the concrete. His cheek is flat on the floor, and while it gives his poor, scratched back a reprieve, he’s afraid of what will happen to his face. “Gil, _please_ —”

The alpha guides his dick into the omega. Thankfully, though it’s not clear whether he understood what Malcolm wants or not, he leans forward to wrap an arm around the younger man’s chest and pulls him upright. The omega’s balance relies on that muscled arm to keep him up. Gil snaps his hips, fucking into him once again. 

Malcolm whimpers. This position plays more to their base instincts, and it’s something he _definitely_ has fantasized about before. He can’t help the way his own cock stiffens. His body feels battered, but it wants more.

The rhythm in this position is quick and short, the alpha molding himself up to his omega’s back in a possessive hold. His teeth scratch against Malcolm’s neck, right on his mating gland, dragging a whine from him. He doesn’t bite, though. He teases and sucks and hums as his lover grabs at the arm holding him up in a bid to stabilize himself. 

The thrusts are relentless. Malcolm’s hair has long since fallen from its brushed back style, and it swings in front of his eyes as his body is jostled. He can’t stop the flood of whimpers and moans falling from his lips.

Once his knot begins to swell for the second time, Gil leans them both forward until the omega’s face is pushed up against the concrete once more. He straightens up. This time he leaves Malcolm down, trailing a hand up along the angry red scratches of his back. It stops at his neck in a parody of the comforting hand he often lays there when the omega is getting too twitchy, too anxious, and he rests it there, holding him down. He uses the grip as leverage to lengthen his thrusts and pound into the younger man. 

Malcolm howls, his jaw aching as the pace picks up again. His body is spasming around the alpha’s cock, trying to encourage a tie. His own dick is trapped beneath his sticky stomach and the floor, hard and twitching, too sensitive from his first hasty orgasm, throbbing with it. “ _Please!_ ” He doesn’t know what he’s pleading for.

The alpha huffs fondly. His thumb strokes Malcolm’s neck, right over his mating gland. “Gonna breed you, kid,” he growls. “Keep talking.”

He obeys, a steady stream of _Please_ , _Gil_ , and _Alpha_ ripping its way up his throat.

Each word helps the knot inside of him swell. By the time they’re stuck together again, he’s reduced to slurring. His words become wholly unrecognizable when Gil worms a hand underneath him and fists his neglected cock. It doesn’t take much to send him over. His hips twitch, the movement reminding him of the knot in his ass and acting like a circuit, the pleasure zinging back and forth, becoming too much to handle.

The alpha groans at the way the omega clenches around his cock and proceeds to stroke him beyond his orgasm just to feel the sensation over and over again as he fills him up. “So good for me,” he murmurs. He sits back on his heels, gently supporting the omega so that his knot doesn’t pull awkwardly. 

And then the door opens. It doesn’t slam, but it moves fast enough to raise Gil’s hackles. He drops to cover Malcolm from view as the growl rises from deep in his chest. 

Dani and JT stall in the doorway, guns out but lowering at the sight of the mating couple. Although both of them are betas, there’s no denying the heavy stench of alpha and omega pheromones in the air.

“Bright?” Dani says anxiously. 

He’s flat against the ground, naked and barely visible under the clothed alpha, with his head turned towards the door and his eyes closed. There are bruises developing on the back of his neck and hickies over his mating gland. What they managed to see of his bare back before Gil covered him was covered in irritated scratches.

“ _Out_ ,” Gil snarls, every inch of him tense.

“Bright,” Dani repeats.

JT puts a hand on her arm in warning. He’s worried, too, but he’s also well aware of how close Gil is to snapping.

Malcolm opens his eyes and blinks blearily. “‘M okay,” he slurs. "Go."

Clearly neither of the betas believe him, but JT pulls Dani away before Gil can get any more aggressive. It doesn’t work like a switch. Gil doesn’t suddenly relax or give Malcolm any space.

In fact, the alpha wraps his arms around the younger man and carefully shifts until they’re sitting against the wall again, raw back to sweater clad front with the latter settled on the former’s lap. They’re still stuck together. He doesn’t let go of Malcolm. He holds him tight to his chest, the omega’s head lolling back onto his shoulder with a tired moan. Gil turns to kiss his temple. He breathes in the combined scent of them as they wait for his knot to go down again. The barest hint of beta in the air makes him eager to stake his claim again, despite the fact that they’re already tied. 

Malcolm pets his arm weakly in an attempt to reassure him. _I’m yours_ , he thinks. _Please relax_. 

Eventually, his knot goes down, but he doesn’t pull out. Gil tightens his hold on the omega and thrusts up, grinding his still hard cock into his sore hole. He can’t bear to let the younger man go far, even if only to give himself room to thrust properly. One of his hands slips down to grip Malcolm’s dick. It’s barely half hard, and he _squeals_ when Gil touches him.

“Too soon,” he cries out, his body trying to angle away from the stimulation, but he’s already too loose limbed and fucked out to escape. 

The alpha strokes him faster. All of the squirming and bucking feels amazing, and his instincts are screaming for him to take care of the omega on his lap, to give him the same pleasure, to show him he’s an alpha worthy of him. He loosens his grip on his chest just enough to thumb at a nipple. He hums, satisfied, as Malcolm _screams_ , the younger man’s dick dribbling a pitiful amount of semen as his third orgasm rips through him. 

Instead of working him until he’s babbling again, the alpha gives him one last stroke before gripping his hip so that he can really grind up into him. His knot is most of the way there already. 

Malcolm clenches as hard as he can, willing this round to be over. His entire body feels wired, used and on edge. 

Gil chuckles and bites down on an ear. “Good omega.” His knot doesn’t pop in, his cock having never left his hole enough for it to do so, but he holds the omega down as firmly as possible as he breeds him for the third time. 

The next two days are a blur for Malcolm. 

His ass is almost never empty, though eventually Gil’s body is able to overcome the drug enough that there are actual breaks between waves. It doesn’t dull his exaggerated instincts, however. The alpha still brings the omega to orgasm every time he knots, not stopping even when he runs dry, weeping as his raw cock is stripped again. 

At some point, someone drops off food and water. He has vague memories of screaming as Gil slams into him again, desperate to reclaim his territory after an intrusion. He has even vaguer recollections of the older man running a soothing hand through his hair and coaxing him to drink. 

He has _no_ memory of being carefully carried to an ambulance in the alpha’s arms. Nor of being hooked up to IVs for his dehydration and empty stomach, or of Gil sitting at his bedside, face screwed up in agony, regret at what the drugs led him to do.

**Author's Note:**

> In the beginning of the smut portion, Gil is drugged and doesn't want Malcolm to force himself to help. Malcolm helps anyway. Then, as the drug really kicks in, Gil's rut becomes too intense, leading him to take over in a very aggressive manner. Malcolm doesn't say no (and doesn't want to), but he does try to get him to wait and be less rough. Gil is VERY rough with him and regrets it later, but the drug made him aggressive. What neither of them realize is that they're both in love with the other.


End file.
